"Great, I'll come down and get you at six." With that, she spun on her heels and walked out of the room as quickly as she could, not wanting to give him a chance to back out.
Chapter Thirteen
TRUE TO HER WORD and intent on forcing Anthony to do something some part of him feared, Ashley showed up at his office at precisely six o'clock. On the surface, it was just two co-workers and friends going out for a casual dinner where they'd discuss a bit of writing, but the real difference between a coffee date with a friend and a dinner date with a lover was what happened at the end of the night. Anthony desired her company; otherwise, he wouldn't have been so eager to continue their existing arrangement of meeting in the afternoons, nor would he have told her to approach him about her writing project whenever she felt the need.
Maintaining the guise of two buddies chatting about how best to create suspense in a narrative, Ashley kept the conversation light and focused on all the things they'd found so engaging before their night of passion had muddied the waters. She took the opportunity to pick his brain about every aspect of the writing craft she could imagine, happy to have the opportunity to ask him straight-up questions instead of having to learn from the example of his book. The best part of it all was that he warmed to it quickly, and before long they were diving into their burgers and talking animatedly as to how to sprinkle clues about the identity of a mysterious informant throughout a story, or coming up with the best ways for a hired killer to make it look like his target had died of natural causes.
"And then he just pulls the string up through the vent and walks away, and the lab can't test for that particular strain of spider venom?" she asked, filling in the ending of an idea he was planning to use later in his current novel.
"Exactly," he said, pausing to stuff a few fries into his mouth. "It's my most cunning plan yet."
"Now I'm suddenly disappointed I won't be able to experience this book for the first time when it actually comes out. It's not as much fun knowing all the secrets before they happen," she teased.
"Wait until you have your own book on the shelves. There's something really amazing about strangers stopping you in the street, or recognizing you in a grocery store, and telling you how blown away they were by the plot twist at the end of the story. It's such a powerful thing to be able to entertain people, and it's worth losing the excitement of reading just one of my books if it gives you the confidence to finish your own work."
"Do you really think one of my books will be published some day?" she asked.
"There's not a doubt in my mind. You're a very talented woman, and from the way you discuss my work and from the feedback you give me, I know you have it in you to write a bestseller. Come to think of it, I should probably use one of my fantastic methods of killing you so that I don't have to face the competition."
"You're not toying with me, are you?"
"About the murder thing? You know I'd never do it, right?" his face showed genuine concern that she might think he'd harm her.
Ashley laughed and threw a wadded up paper napkin at him. It bounced off his chest and onto his plate to finally nestle beside the few remaining French fries. She reached out to pick it off his plate as he reached at the same time, feeling for its landing place. His fingertips brushed against the back of her hand for only an instant, but it was enough to send a warm tingle down her spine.
He pulled his hand back and smiled awkwardly. Ashley couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw a bit of crimson flushing into his cheeks. "I wanted to know if you were serious about me getting published. It's not nice to toy with a girl when it comes to things like that."
"I'm completely serious. I probably shouldn't say this until you actually hand me a completed draft, but I expect to be sending your work off to my agent when it's finished. I've already told him about you; that's how confident I am in your talent."
"Wow," she leaned against the back of the booth. "I don't even know what to say."
"Say thank you and pay that bill so we can get out of here. I'm feeling a little worn out from jet lag."
Ashley paid for their meal and was happy when he took her arm for guidance as they left the restaurant. He'd used his cane to find his way in, but this time he slipped his hand around her arm as casually as if it were something they'd always done. They didn't speak much on the walk back to the truck, and then even less on the drive home. They both seemed content to just be in each other's company, and Ashley was elated to feel none of the awkwardness that had plagued their last drive back from town.
"I had a really nice time tonight," said Anthony, unbuckling his seat belt but making no move to open the passenger door.
"I did, too." She bit her lower lip and tried to decide if she should push ahead or be happy with the progress they'd made. "I missed you while you were away."
"You were in my thoughts, too," he admitted. "More than I really wanted to accept."
Ashley didn't particularly want to have a conversation about feelings, so she leaned over and kissed him, feeling a lot like a teenager on a first date. Anthony responded to her kiss, hesitantly at first, but then more confidently as she shuffled sideways on the seat to draw closer to him. The truck's wide front seat was perfectly suited to a steamy make out session, and after a few minutes of kissing and nibbling at each other's necks, she moved her hand lower to fondle him over his pants. He responded to her touch and groped at her breasts, his breathing deeper and more intense as she slipped her hand down under the waistband of his underwear to grip the growing erection.
"Ashley, I..." he started as she shuffled back on the seat and lowered her face to his crotch.
"Shut up," she said. Ashley unbuckled his pants and worked to free his cock from the restraint of his boxer briefs. It was only halfway hard, and she had to hold it up before she could lower her lips over it and slowly pull away, letting it snap out of her mouth with a quiet popping sound. She squeezed her fingers in a ring around the base of his shaft and heard his sharp intake of breath as she moved her hand up and down a few times. Her tongue lashed out at his tip, teasing his most sensitive area until he was hard and pulsing in her hand.
"Oh fuck, that feels so good," he said.
Her mouth was back on him and she sucked with all the energy she had. She still felt like a teenager out after curfew, but the big difference now was she knew a lot more about sucking a guy off than when younger. She worked him fast and hard for several strokes, lubricating his cock with her saliva. His hand was on the back of her head, and when she felt his fingers tighten in her hair, she eased off and slowed her pace, licking at him patiently and gently, moving her closed fist up and down his shaft.
This only served to get him closer to a climax, and when she could tell he was ready to let go, she pumped her hand again and bobbed her head up and down on his dick, soft slurping sounds filling the steamy cab of the truck. Seconds later she felt his load spurt into her mouth, his musty cum spilling out against her tongue. Ashley swallowed and held him firmly, moving her lips slowly up and down to tease the last of his orgasm out.
Satisfied that she'd given him a blow job to remember, she sat back and wiped her lips before kissing him on the cheek. Without hesitating, she opened the door and stepped out of the truck, taking her time to walk around to the passenger side so Anthony could do up his pants. She would have loved this to have been the catalyst that led them to rushing to the bedroom for a night of passionate lovemaking, but she had other ideas for getting him to come around.
Ashley waited for Anthony to step out of the car. He was clearly flustered by what had just happened. She imagined he was even more confused by the fact that she seemed content to go back into the house and just say goodnight as though she hadn't just vigorously sucked his dick until he shot his load. As she walked up the stairs to her room, she hoped she'd left him with the desire to take it further next time he had the chance. It was as clear as day that he wanted to be with her, and she was willing to try anything to make him see it for himself.
Chapter Fourteen
"NOW I KNOW IT isn't any of my business, but whatever happened between you two on your little date last night sure did have an effect on Mr. Lang," said Helene over breakfast.
"It wasn't a date," said Ashley, tossing a coy look as she bit into her toast. "It was just two friendly writers talking about their craft."
"Oh, is that all? Because our Mr. Lang was in quite a state when I checked in on him last night. Whatever you've been doing has rattled him something fierce."
"Okay, I might have pushed him towards admitting that he has feelings for me," she said. "It was just a tiny push, a nudge really."
"Seems to me like you shoved him in the chest with both hands. That boy is over the moon for you."
Ashley tore a piece of crust from her toast and stared at it while ripping it into smaller and smaller pieces that she discarded on her plate. "If that's the case, then why is he being such a jerk about it?"
"You're talking about his last-minute research trip, aren't you?"
"What kind of man takes off like that? I mean, really. We had sex and then he sends me away only for me to find out later that he flew to another continent in order to avoid looking me in the eye the next morning." She let the last pieces of bread drop and pushed her plate away.
"Anthony may seem like a tough ex-CIA agent on the outside, but he's not the confident man he used to be. I didn't know him before the accident, but there's something broken in him. I can't say what it might be, and it's not my place to be asking him these sorts of things, but it keeps him from really getting close to anyone," explained Helene in her kindest grandmother voice.
"So you're saying he needs help seeing what's right in front of his nose?" asked Ashley.
"Something like that. If this is something you really want from him, then you're going to have to fight for it. I love the boy dearly, but he is as stubborn as a mule."
"That's a nice way of putting it," said Ashley, a small smile on her lips at the thought of the less pleasant words she would have used to describe the man.
"I've held my tongue until now, and maybe that was a mistake, but you should know that Mr. Lang has been different since you arrived. He's happier, he eats more, he sleeps better; it may not seem like it to you, but he was in a dark place before you came, and I don't ever remember seeing him so happy. The man needs you, but he's too much of a fool to admit it to himself."
Helene collected the breakfast dishes and took them to the sink. She ran hot water and poured dish soap over them, whistling softly while she scrubbed, rinsed, and arranged them on the drying rack with quick, smooth movements. Ashley watched and admired how the woman seemed to run on autopilot when it came to the hundred little tasks she had to accomplish each day. If only dealing with people was so easy, she thought to herself.
"What do you think I should do about this whole silly situation?" asked Ashley.
"Nothing left but to talk to him, I'm afraid." Helene turned, using her apron to dry her hands. "I can't promise it will be the easiest conversation you've ever had, but I don't see any alternative. Maybe it's time to put everything on the table once and for all."
Ashley took Helene's advice to heart, and after mulling it over for an hour or so, she decided she'd talk with Anthony as soon as he woke. She knew his schedule fairly well, and although he often stayed up until ridiculously late hours, it was rare that he'd ever stay in bed past ten o'clock. He was a man of routine, and it was easy enough for her to intercept him on his way to his workout.
"Hey, sorry to interrupt you, but do you think we could talk for a few minutes?" she asked. She'd stopped him just outside his bedroom.
"It's important?" He held up his sports towel as if to remind her that he was on his way to the garage.
"Yeah, I think it's important."
"Let's go to my office then," he said, stepping past her to open the door. He sat down in one of the two wingback chairs they used during their more casual conversations about work.
"We need to talk about what's going on between us," said Ashley sitting across from him. "I don't know what you were trying to prove by taking off to Europe last week, but what happened that night meant a lot to me, and I don't want to keep living here if we're going to play games with each other."
Anthony paused for a long moment before saying, "That night meant a lot to me, too, and I promise that I'm not trying to play games with you. It's just that...” He let the words fall off as he rubbed his jaw.
"It's just what?" she asked, her words coming out a little more sternly than she'd meant them to sound.
"You deserve better than someone like me, Ashley. You deserve a man who can do normal things with you, someone who can fully appreciate you. I'm no good at relationships, and I don't want you to have to bear the burden of me." His hand dropped to his lap and his shoulders drooped in resignation. He always maintained such perfect posture; this was the first time she'd seen him slump in his chair like that.
"Are you trying to say that I deserve someone who isn't blind?"
Anthony shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "I'm only half a man now. I can't expect someone like you to want to be involved with someone who can't even get around his own house if the furniture is rearranged even slightly. I can barely manage to cook anything, I can't drive a car, and I probably couldn't even protect you if anyone were to try to break in."
"Those are all nonsense reasons and you know it," she said. Ashley moved from her chair to kneel before him, reaching out to take his hands. "You're the most brilliant, talented writer I know. You're handsome, you're kind, and you're intelligent. Helene loves you like her own son, and even though I've only known her a short time, I hold her opinion in the highest esteem. I don't care if you can't see, Anthony. You see me well enough with your mind, and you have this amazing way of making me feel more beautiful than anyone else ever has."